


The Succubus

by TheCatDemonofInk



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fluff, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Other, Slice of Life, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 03:16:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20400775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCatDemonofInk/pseuds/TheCatDemonofInk
Summary: The main victims of the Succubus tend to be male, and to be found in dark alleyways near bars.They are usually last seen following a young woman, who's description varies depending on the witness, out of the bar, and are not seen again until the body is found. There is no known information about the Succubus, and forensic reports have not uncovered any additional information. Most victims appear to have died from long straight claw marks to the throat.There have been six victims so far. The latest has been found along Oakley Street. The victim was reported to be harassing a young woman before his death.





	The Succubus

The eraser bounced off the door, sending up a flurry of dust that sparkled in the wind as it landed on the ground. The light coming in through the window was bright enough to blind, or to at least horrify and cause immense distress if you happened to be a vampire. Thankfully, they weren’t.

They laughed at their best friend slipping a glass from the small cluster on their table, sliding to sit along the side. Their table was nice and warmed by the sunlight, or at least it was until their best friend pushed them off, glaring. The mint leaf under the kaleidoscope of mirrors and glasses refracted in the light, and small silver streaks could be seen. 

“You need to get out of the house at some point. Walk down the stairs or something. Clean the room maybe.” The demon laughs from where they’re seated on the ground. They dodge the eraser thrown in their direction with an easy grace, skirts not even swirling as they lean back arrogantly. The witch waves them away, using a pair of tweezers to pick up a small silver strand and place it in a tupperware filled with a clear green liquid, and carefully placing their fountain pen and wooden pencil into their pencil case.The silver strand dissolves in the liquid. The witch stands up, brushing down their slacks and their shirt, and cracks their back. The demon cringes at the audible crack, moving towards the window of the studio apartment quickly. 

“Do you want coffee?” The demon asks, picking up an empty cup and idly tilting it back and forth, watching the unknowable what-once-was-liquid slush about like litter in a snowstorm. The witch dusts off their clothes, and nods, seeming to finally notice that the area around the table was covered in dust, and that the mint plant over at the side, the peppermint at least, didn’t seem particularly pleased with them.

The demon slides a rag out, cleaning the mug swiftly under the water as the substance inside reforms into something brown and which can be poured out. The kitchen itself is covered in assorted plates and cups, and the demon has to kill a slow moving blue slime that appears to have developed sentience. They slice a finger through it, sharp gleaming black nails serrating it in half and turning it black as it gets washed down the sink. The demon returns to perch on the window, watching the witch clear the rest of their apartment, ordering around the sullen-looking vacuum cleaner and chasing it with a damp mop.

The apartment itself is not big, only a small area with maybe a single bedroom and a living room and a bathroom. The witch’s various set-ups are all bubbling away cheerfully in the corner, connected with a makeshift plug to the power outlet, and the rainwater being used for the filtration being cooled by a spell. The witch themself isn’t a very big witch, nothing like the hags in picture books. They keep their laptop and other electronics in their bedroom, have to, or the plants will be sad and start reaching out leaves to interfere with their readings. 

“Are you going out later tonight again?” The demon spins, skirts whirling as they turn to their now-very-dusty-and-soily witch, who seems to be staring at them. 

“Yes.” The demon rolls their eyes, leaning down to dust off the witch’s clothes. The demon is an entire head taller than the witch, in their natural form at least. The witch rolls their eyes, and runs their fingers through the demon’s deep blue hair..

“You know it isn’t safe, if anyone caught you.” The witch worries. The demon always thinks it sweet of them, always worrying about them. The demon has been doing this for ages, ever since they gave up trying to understand exactly what it was about humans that scared them when it came to demons. The witch had explained it was just the unknown and the fact that humans didn’t just fear demons, they even feared other humans too, just for the fact that other humans hadn’t been born in the same country. The demon still thought it stupid. The witch still agreed, and knew that there would be Consequences if anyone caught the demon. 

“You think this form will be good enough?” The demon muses, turning into a young mayonnaise skinned girl with light mousy brown hair and brown eyes. The glamour falls down their body, making their nails go from black to a turquoise with white edges and their clothing changing into a crop top and a miniskirt. The witch rolls their eyes and asks the demon how  _ they _ ’re supposed to know if the demon is the type of attractive that will get men to harass them and follow them into dark alleys.

“You already know what I think, dear.” The witch sighs as the demon spins, watching the miniskirt flare out around them. “They’ll go after anyone. It’s just the whole dark alley bit that’s up for debate.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” The demon sighs, flopping on the ground, and letting their fingers change back into the long black claws. 

The witch shoos them off the floor, and they share tea over the soft bubble of the witch’s experiments. The healing potion probably wouldn’t need to be used but their antiseptic was always ready for when the demon came back late at night, fingers covered in blood and other weird substances. Just because there were no major injuries didn’t mean there were never small cuts and scrapes. 


End file.
